


Private Collection

by Elle_Ashe



Series: MCU Crossovers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Libraries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Ashe/pseuds/Elle_Ashe
Summary: Hermione meets an unusual man in London's finest magical library.





	Private Collection

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a series of MCU crossover one-shots. 
> 
> I've had this one rattling around in my head for a little while and I thought it would be a good way to get back into the swing of writing while I'm agonizing over the absolute blockage on finishing my main story, Six Petals.
> 
> I won't say that I'll take requests per se, but I do enjoy suggestions and I will certainly read any you send my way in the comments and give it consideration.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or franchises depicted, they belong instead to their respective owners. I have no intention of profiting from the intellectual property of others.

Hermione sighed in frustration and _almost_ slammed the cover of the book she’d been desperately searching shut, lightly dropping it on top of the 3-foot stack of likewise discarded books and burying her fingers in her bushy hair.  She would never actually disrespect a book in such a fashion as to slam or drop one, of course, but if she’d been a less conscientious person she would have been sorely tempted.  She had been coming here to what was considered the finest magical library in all of wizarding Britain for almost a month - a month! – and she was no closer to finding the ancient runes she’d been searching for.

 

It was beginning to look like she would have to make a special trip to one of the great magical libraries in Europe - France, perhaps, or Austria - to delve into their collections of ancient rune lore.  This was something she had dearly hoped to avoid.  It would mean taking weeks away from her job at the Ministry, not to mention weeks away from Ron and their friends.  Neither of these were things she wanted to do at all.  She was a legislator first and foremost and a researcher second; her job, her calling, was to shape the laws of the wizarding world to make it a better place for everyone.  She shouldn’t be so willing to abandon it to chase a mystery, but she’d been unable to let it go.

 

She’d seen the runes on a newscast on the telly she’d barely caught while visiting her parents, of all places.  She had no idea what the report had been about and she’d only got one good look at them as the video had taken a close-up of something and she’d scrambled to copy them.  They hadn’t played the clip again so Hermione still had no idea where they actually came from.  Her own books had yielded no clues and her quest had spiraled out from there, her frustration rivalling her curiosity as days turned into weeks of fruitless searching.  There was absolutely no way she could simply let go of the mystery.

 

“If you’ll pardon the intrusion, I don’t believe you’ll find what you’re looking for here.  Their collection is bit underrated.”  A smooth, cultured voice interrupted her internal debate.

 

“I was just coming to the same conclusion,” she grumbled as she looked up to see a man, a very unique man even for the wizarding world.  He was dressed in layers of leather, perhaps dragonhide by the look of it: a black silk shirt under a tunic of dark gray leather that was nearly black, accented with royal green; a long coat of the same material with more of the green this time; and matching leather trousers.  Bracers and armor plates of aged bronze added a military flair to an already ostentatious outfit.  He was definitely not a Muggle with those clothes but she’d never seen something like that on a wizard, either.  Her first thought was of a Slytherin but there weren’t many adult wizards who wore their House colors so prominently after graduation.

 

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked, warily.  Caution bordering on suspicion had been ingrained in most of the former Hogwarts students who’d survived the Second Wizarding War.

 

The man seemed surprised at her question, as if he’d expected her to recognize him on sight.  Definitely a Slytherin, she thought.  A slight smile appeared, and he gave a little courtly bow.  “I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, my lady.  I am Loki.  And you are?”

 

Now it was Hermione’s turn to be surprised.  She was pretty certain that most British wizards recognized her on site as part of the Golden Trio, and his accent was certainly British enough if a little hard to place.  Nothing for it then.  “I’m Hermione Granger-Weasely.”  There was still no sign of recognition on his part and the slight smile didn’t falter.

 

The man was another puzzle.  She was sure he was a Pureblood based on name alone; no Muggle family would name a child after the Norse god of magic and mischief but a wizarding family certainly might.  He’d given no family name, however, and it was difficult to imagine that a Pureblood would choose not to promote their lineage.  She gave the man a closer inspection, beyond the unusual clothing.  He was tall and lean with wiry muscle, pale skin, and dark hair.  Perhaps he was a Lestrange; given what had happened to the family, she wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to advertise his connections.  Even if he wasn’t a Lestrange, he might well have come from a Pureblood family that donated more Death Eaters to Voldemort’s cause than he wanted to admit to.

 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.  May I see what’s been driving you to spend so much time here?”  His fingers traced the title of one of the discarded books stacked on the table.  “I daresay that runes are one of my specialties.”

 

“Have you been spying on me?” she demanded, her suspicion returning in full force.

 

Loki seemed slightly affronted.  “Of course not.  I simply spend a great deal of time here myself and I couldn’t help but notice.”  He looked around the library and something akin to fondness passed over his expressive features.  “It is one of my favorite places to haunt since I arrived.”

 

“You’re not from London, then?”

 

He graced her with another smile, this one seeming to hint at an inside joke.  “No, I’m not really from around here.”

 

Hermione mulled it over.  There didn’t seem to be any harm in showing him the runes; she’d had no luck uncovering their meaning or potential spell usage herself.  Wordlessly she handed him the slip of parchment and watched as his long, thin fingers traced the runes on the parchment.  A warm chuckle drew Hermione’s eyes back to his face.

 

“No, you certainly won’t find anything written here about these runes.  Nor in any book in Europe.”  Before she could protest, he slid a hand into the inner lining of his long coat and produced a small book bound in brown leather and handed it to her.  “I’ll loan you a book from my private collection.  You may borrow it until I have need of it again.  I’ll only ask a small favor in return.”

 

Hermione frowned at him.  “What kind of favor?  And how will I return the book?”

 

Loki waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.  “Nothing dishonorable or injurious I assure you.  As for the book, I’ll retrieve it when it’s time.”

 

She glanced at the leather-bound book, _Greater and Lesser Runes of Alfheim_ , and when she looked up to ask him about the book, he was gone. 


End file.
